Exit Wounds: Soldiers' Stories―Life after Iraq and Afghanistan

by Jim Lommasson, Jonathan Shay (Introduction)

This compelling and timely collaboration between photographer/writer Jim Lommasson and American veterans of the Iraq and Afghanistan wars presents Lommasson s portraits and interviews as well as soldiers own photographs from the war zones. The stories expressed in words and in images are intimate, profound, and timeless. In their own words, 50 men and women speak their truth about these wars what they saw and what they did. They talk about the wars impact on themselves and on their loved ones at home as well as on the Iraqis and Afghanis caught in the crossfire. They talk about why they went to war and how the war came home with them. Our soldiers need to tell their stories, and we need to listen."

208 pages, Hardcover

First published May 28, 2015

Reviews

[Rick · Rating 5 out of 5]

I was volunteering at a photography gallery and asked the woman who runs it for a photo book recommendation and she suggested this one. It's a collection of pictures, stories, & anecdotes by and about veterans who served in Iraq & Afghanistan. I served in the U.S. Army in the late eighties in Germany and was recalled to active duty in the middle of my first semester of college. I remember sitting in the tv room of my dorm watching the invasion of Kuwait and freaking out, knowing I could be called back. I returned to Fort Knox, Kentucky, which is where I did my basic training and learned how to operate a M1A1 tank. I was freaking out because I had not driven or in any way operated a tank during the three years I served because I quickly realized when I arrived in Europe that I was entirely too large to ever be comfortable and had no mechanical aptitude whatsoever but could type and they were in desperate need of people with clerical skills. Fortunately for me, the Kuwait invasion was incredibly brief and ended before I was shipped anywhere but as I flipped through the photography book I couldn't help but wonder what if that had been me? Would I have been able to handle it? Can anyone handle war? It was difficult enough just to return to ordinary American society after three years of being both in the Army and in Germany. One of the most difficult challenges was adjusting to the lack of camaraderie & fraternity that one experiences in the service. You get to an incredible depth of intimacy with some of the people you serve with and endure absurd levels of exhaustion and the endless idiocy of military command. There's nothing so uniting as the shared contempt soldiers have for the ignorance & incompetence exhibited by the chain of command. I highly recommend this book for its realness about the experience of war, the challenges faced by those who return, and for the surprising diversity of attitudes about war.

[Alex · Rating 5 out of 5]

Reading Jim Lommasson’s “Exit Wounds: Soldiers’ Stories—Life after Iraq and Afghanistan” is challenging because of what it doesn’t say. Exit Wounds doesn’t tell you how you should feel about our current wars. You won’t walk about thinking, “I understand why we are in Iraq.” Your own opinions, ones you formed before reading “Exit Wounds,” will appear as fragments of an incomplete story. There is no timeline; you won’t see a map of strongholds and frontlines. Inevitably, you’ll see someone like you, wearing average clothes, sitting in a living room or office like yours. The difference is, the man or woman pictured has a story to tell—one that is never easy to hear, tell…or live through.

“People join the military not to fight wars, but for all the benefits. It’s the closest thing any of us ever had to real socialism,” recounts Lelyn Masters, who then lists specific reasons for enlisting: bills, family obligations like child support, a college education, VA healthcare, a career, and a pension. Only a handful of narrators mention a desire to sacrifice themselves for their country. However, Exit Wounds isn’t about joining the Army, Navy, or Marines.

Further, though soldiers, Marines, and sailors tell snippets of their time in Iraq and Afghanistan, cumulatively this book is true to its title: it is about exit wounds, specifically the kind you can’t see. “You can have two guys that sat side-by-side in that Humvee for six or seven months, driving down the streets of Iraq getting shot at, and they’ll come out with vastly different perspectives,” recounts Ashkan Bayatpour (p. 93). It’s the “vastly different perspectives” that make “Exit Wounds” especially challenging, bringing it more into the realm of visual anthropology and visual ethnographies.

I found myself understanding Chanan Suarez Diaz strong anti-war stance, even personally relating to his life outside of the military. Immediately following Diaz’ narrative is Michael Cambell’s piece, which is so challenging even the author steps outside of his objectivity. Diaz and Cambell’s stories are the same and opposite, one is actively against war, while Cambell states: “Al Qaeda, the Taliban, or Jihad brotherhood would destroy our economy and the country that I love in an instant if they thought they could get it done. I have seen the hate in their eyes, and please, if you believe anything I say, believe this: they will be back, and it will be worse—we better stay in step!” Before you judge Cambell’s opinion about the war in the Middle East, understand that Cambell does not deny the collateral damage of war, when soldiers, Marines, and sailors return home, which makes his words even harder to dismiss. He’s weighed the cost (he knows the cost), yet he still firmly believes in our involvement in the Middle East.

Perhaps the greatest benefit of “Exit Wounds” is the guidance it gives the reader for talking with and listening to those returning from war. Myla Haider states, “I think people need to keep in mind that when they are thanking somebody for what they did over there, sometimes that involves killing a child. It comes with the job.” (p. 69). Others feel grateful for the thanks, and still some feel confused, “I just did my job; you don’t need to thank me.” Philip Nannery emphatically states: “All I’ve ever wanted since coming home from war is for someone who has never been to war to sit down and frankly tell me they will never understand what I’ve been through.” (p. 150)

A hot-button issue, sexual violence in the military, is brought up a few times. Notably, Rick Lawson’s story gets at the heart of the culture of sexual violence in some military institutions. I was particularly intrigued because I recently read “Not Gay” by Jane (NYU Press, Aug. 2015 release) who torturously dismisses the very experiences Lawson writes about. I hope Jane reads Exit Wounds. (p. 103, Rick Lawson; See also, “In Debate Over Military Sexual Assault, Men Are Overlooked Victims,” The New York Times, June 6, 2013: http://www.nytimes.com/2013/06/24/us/... )

Heather Wakehouse, similar to Catherine Madison’s upcoming The War Came Home with Him, (Univ. of Minnesota Press, Sept. 2015 release) states, “My war was here. The person I’m supposed to trust most in the world was treating me like an enemy and reminding me that I might be the enemy…I still love him. I don’t pity him at all. And I don’t hold grudges for stuff that has happened.” (Exit Wounds, p. 173). Heather’s story reminds us that these “exit wounds” hurt more than those people who were in war-torn areas; the casualties continue at home, permeating our families and communities.

The photos included in “Exit Wounds” sensitively and honestly portray the men and women whose stories and essays follow. After reading their stories, you’ll find that the photos also include subtle symbols referenced in the narratives. Though the opening and closing pages contain pictures of war, the actual portraits paired with narratives are easily relatable because they are pictures of “ordinary” men and women. I don’t recall any smiling photos, which isn’t surprising when you read the stories and essays that follow. Similarly, these are not photos of emotional broken, “shellshock-eyed” veterans; the pictures (and stories) move beyond that account.

Juxtaposition of different narratives could have felt manipulating, and almost did, until I reached the very last story, that of Mary Geddry, who wrote “an open letter to three Iraqi women.” (p.199). Geddry tells her own story, one she shares with her son who was deployed to Iraq, and in so doing, begins a dialogue that both countries need to share.

If you’re still wondering if you should read Exit Wounds, I’ll leave you with the insight of one artist and veteran. Ehren Tool summarizes specifically why we must critically think about these current wars: “I really don’t care if you’re for or against the war, but ignorance of the war is inexcusable to me.” (p. 119)

Thank you NetGalley and Schiffer Publishing for my ARC copy!